Lost and Found
by KawaiiEuphoria
Summary: AU, Mature & Older Eren. After reminiscing about his lost, beautiful possession, Eren realizes that he's extremely fortunate to be laying beside the one he loves.


Quick little fic idea I got. On my story 'Next Door Neighbour', a guest by the name of "_**AdDicTiOn**_" posted a review and it just inspired me to write a little something. His/her quote is the first and last bit in italics. I hope you all enjoy! **THIS IS IN EREN'S POV, SO PLEASE DO NOT ASK ME ABOUT IT. THANK YOU.**

...

_'One day, I built this grand wall up and around me and you. Many have tried to break this wall of ours, and once have their attempts succeeded. I was held far off in a distance land, as you were locked in the depths within their acts of 'protection'. Our desire to seek another's comfort grew, and - soon - broke to the point of overflowing. This selfish act of theirs had not weakened our bond, more like built greater walls to defend our __**LOVE**__. We found each other again, and not long after... __**HELD OUR LOVE CLOSE TO OUR HEARTS**_._'_

My exhausted, weary gaze scanned slowly over the bland sheet that had been placed in front of me for more than an hour now. Had it been an hour? I'm not sure, I must have lost count of the minutes. The sedated feeling of time simply ticking by second by second gave me deep shivers that I could not explain. I blinked, the movement sluggish. I did not want to be near paperwork nor cellular devices, which were still classified as newfangled to me, nor even a radio. I wanted to be relaxing within the arms my lover, the lover of mine who I claimed for myself three years ago.

His eyes still shine as dull as they shone the day we had crossed paths. The unnatural silverish colour of irises amused me to no end; I reminisced back when I would muse over the abnormal shade time and time again, and how irked about it he would get. I sniggered to myself, finding those memories rather relaxing and soothing. I dreamt of his silky, satin-like dark coloured hair. The colour black well suited him, was what I told him often. My beloved would only scoff and brush away the commendation, without even the slightest of humor tinted in his features. I admired the soberness of his entire outlook. Yet even while making love, his expression would hardly vary and I still relish in the moments where I catch a smile itching to make it's way onto his parched lips.

I exhale extensively, finding myself drifting off into the forbidden section of my brain. Memories were simply either good times that you tend to dwell on redundantly, in which they slowly morph into bad times and bad times never waver, never fault. Memories are pointless, I remind myself. Memories are pointless.

At this time of night is where my mind tends to progress into white noise. I can't focus any longer with many other topics and subjects on my mind. My hands unconciously work their assisting magic and cleanse my cluttered work table for me. This paper goes in this stack and this ballpoint pen has to be set beside this ballpoint pen. This repeated mess - this muddled picture - is imprinted in my mind both when I doze off and when I awake. I stand cautiously, well aware that my legs have both become half numb and move aside leisurely to tuck in my chair. My eyes are sore, my throat is dry, my fingers feel nimble and weak, and my body feels drained. These feelings are well known to me, though I wouldn't care to want this routine to change. Punctuation is key, my dear reminds me from time to time.

I trudge my way along the pathways of my humble abode, flicking off every ceiling light or lamp that had not been turned off before I had begun my evening routine. I make my way, lead-footed, up the foot of stairs that awaits me and feel an instictive, untroubled smile form it's way onto my lips as I enter the bedroom.

"Did you get any work done tonight?" Is the first thing he asks me. I sigh, beginning to strip myself of my socks and pants.

"Almost nothing, dear. My mind drifts when I work, you know that." I reply fluently, tossing each abandoned sock into the nearby laundry hamper. My pants and shirt soon join my socks and I yawn, feeling completely exhausted. I feel drained, fatigued, _bone-tired _even. This day had been difficult, to explain it easily. The boss boiled over his limit more than enough times and released all of his frustration out on the workers and I. My body makes its way over to my side of the bed and I slide underneath the warm, cozy sheets. "Did you wash these sheets today, love?"

He doesn't respond to my question all too soon. I observe him as he swiftly marks his page of his book that he was indulging on and set said book aside on his bedside table, cluttered only with a lamp, glasses (which he hardly ever wears), and an alarm clock with the time set at **11:49**. He turns on to his side so he is facing me and nuzzles his cheek slightly against the snug pillow to get a little more comfortable.

"Yes, I did." He ultimately replies, a weary expression engulfs his features. A soft yawn escapes his lips as I snuggle deeper under the covers and hop closer to him a few inches to be able to gently drape my arm over his hip. Our faces are merely inches apart, yet we are both used to this; we have both taken a comfortable liking to this type of routine during the late hours of the night. Tonight, we both wordlessly decide, is not a night for the making of love, but for wanting to feel each other's comforting presence beside one another, even when conciousness is lost.

"... You know," I start in a hushed tone. "I was remembering about when we first met, at the banquet. Do you remember that night?" My love stares blankly at me for a bit, no sign of thought shown on his expression. I tense slightly, until I see the corners of his flat-lined lips twinge upwards.

"Of course I do, dummy. How could I not? That was the first night I realized that every single other person I had had sex with was pointless and unsatisfying." He retorted nonchalantly, gazing in an almost teasing manner up at me. I could feel the apple of my cheeks begin to slowly gain colour. Yes, it was true; my partner was rather.. upfront and plain-spoken about nearly everything, but that was one of the main traits of his that caused me to fall in love with him in the first place.

"B.. Besides that. What was a singular moment about that night that you won't be able to forget?" I inquire, once again. He seemed to take a moment – a moment to reflect back on that seemingly unforgettable evening.

"When all the guests were called down to dance and when I saw you in that damn sexy tuxedo. That black really brought out the.. sexiness in you." He uttered, his minor smile evolving into a little smirk. Even I had to chuckle a little at what he had said. I couldn't help but agree with my love. I closely inspected myself many times before I had left the house for that night. Plus, I may or may not have taken a few photos of myself as well, but he didn't need to have the knowledge of that.

"I could say the same for you. Your all around.. invigorating aura that night was too much for my body to handle." I chortled all while my beloved's smirk only grew. He needn't reply to what I had said, since there was simply no need. He understood that he meant a lot to me, and I understand that I mean the same amount to him.

He and I are what people say 'inseparable', though I couldn't disagree and I'm sure neither could he. After that night of meeting, we were both instantly seperated from one another. It was devestating to my state of mind, to say the least. I wasn't able to go to my workplace for a few whole days, since I had just felt.. Empty. I remeber distinctly that overwhelming feeling of hopelessness and all around nothingness. I was barely able to eat or drink, and I refused to answer incoming calls, texts or even if someone arrived at my door. I wanted – no, it was an absolute need, an absolute _requirement _to have him by my side again. I had been a pathetic slob for that period of time, which had felt like endless years. All I knew was that I needed that man, for whom I didn't know his name, to be at my side.

But my desperate, silent pleas of much needed companionship, were answered a week and two days after our initial seperation. It started with a knock at my front door, and that exact day was when I had finally accepted that I would never be able to see that handsome, perfect, flawless man again. I remember opening up that oak wood door with the silverish knob and window placed square in the middle with the contorted glass, which in turned blurred the form of the other person on the opposite side of the door.

... I couldn't even begin to explain - to even think of beginning to explain – how... shocked I was. So many emotions flood over me. I was euphoric, enraged, flustered, speechless.. Though, over all of those big words, I felt utterly and completely relieved. I was relieved to have him back in my care, once and for all. I relished for months on end when he moved in with me, hugging him, kissing him, even merely talking with him.

I remember one specific night while making love, his flushed, beautiful face faced mine and our intense gaze never wavered. I remembered how hard his dull, short nails dug deep into my shoulders and back and how he continuously scarred my skin with love bites and angry red scratch marks. Though the day after, I would never be mad. I would step out of the shower and dry myself, immediately noticing the variously placed bite marks over my neck and I would turn my back to the mirror to see wings of scratch marks that looked like they may have even bled a little. I would only grin, knowing that my dearly beloved had created those marks to claim his territory.

"I thought I would never be able to see you again, you know." He spoke gently, his gaze wandering over my bare chest. Hearing him say this with my own ears caused my vision to slowly become blurry and barely comprehendable. I had to hold back my choked sobs before speaking.

"Y-You too, huh?" I snorted in pathetic laughter, feeling a singular tear escape the corner of my eye. I despised crying. I despised it since it reminded me of the all too familiar feeling of lonliness. I despised it. I closed my eyes, not wanting to make eye contact with him at the moment. He had only seen me cry once before, and that was the day we had rejoiced. I was clenching my jaw, not wanting accidently sob or let any more tears fall. One was more than enough.

I felt, upon my cheek, his soft thumb brush over my cheek, smearing the lonely tear away. I slowly opened my tear-stained eyes, and immediately noticed that in his returning gaze, his expression neglected to show any sign of amusement.

"... Get some sleep, you've had too long a day. You'll feel better in the morning." He says to me, his voice lenient and easygoing which calms my nerves. I nod after a few seconds of keeping wordless eye contact with him. Before closing my eyes once more, I draw my beloved in closer to me, wanting to keep his presence beside me even as I lay asleep. I lean in a little to kiss his forehead tenderly.

"I love you." I whisper to him for a final time tonight.

"As I to you."

_'One day, I built this grand wall up and around me and you. Many have tried to break this wall of ours, and once have their attempts succeeded. I was held far off in a distance land, as you were locked in the depths within their acts of 'protection'. Our desire to seek another's comfort grew, and - soon - broke to the point of overflowing. This selfish act of theirs had not weakened our bond, more like built greater walls to defend our __**LOVE**__. We found each other again, and not long after... __**HELD OUR LOVE CLOSE TO OUR HEARTS**_._'_


End file.
